


House.cat

by Khriskin



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Gen, Humor, Musefic, Plotbunnies, Subreality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 22:38:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khriskin/pseuds/Khriskin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Musefic: fan fiction written about the fictives who hang out in my house and annoy me while I try to write. Otherwise known as: I had writers block and was being silly. *solemn nod*</p>
<p>I have no idea if the SubReality Cafe is still open, but I really should go looking for it sometime. (I miss alt.comics.fan-fiction :( )</p>
            </blockquote>





	House.cat

"You," the fictive pointed his cane in the general direction of the Writer, "suck." He waited a moment for a reaction, trying to find the best lounging position on the couch. The suspiciously comfy couch, come to think of it. When the Writer continued to ignore him House poked one of the pillows just to see if was somehow leaking Viocdin. Nope, just cat fur.

"Have I mentioned that you suck? Recently?" Still ignored, he leaned over the back of the couch and poked the Writer with his cane. "Hullo, Earth to Writer: I'm bored, entertain me."

"Last time I checked, entertainment was your job, not mine." The Writer frowned at the computer screen, then set about rearranging the last paragraph of the fic-in-progress. High doses of NyQuil did not make for the most coherent plotting.

"Diagnostician, actually. Not my fault you find me entertaining." He settled back into the comfy couch and glared over at the cat who had settled herself in on the far arm and was glaring back. "Shoo furball."

_:No.:_

"You have a telepathic cat?" He raised an eyebrow and the cat yawned. "Quaint."

"She's not a cat, she's an Avatar," the Writer scanned the next scene and wondered why on earth she had ever thought that putting Rodney in any position of power was a good idea. Next time he swung by to bitch (and drink all the coffee), they'd have to talk. Or more accurately, she'd talk and he'd ignore her. Again. She decided to work Radek into the scene to annoy him.

"An Avatar of what?"

"My cat."

There was a long pause as the fictive attempted to follow the circular logic. "You do realize that makes no sense."

"Welcome to my world." The Writer paused to transplant an inquisitive PlotBunny from the computer desk back onto the floor. It hopped off in search of more hospitable climes, heading back under the bed to hang with the rest of the warren. "Now are you going to do something useful or just co-opt my couch?"

"You aren't using it."

"Yeah, but the vampire, two immortals, and one increasingly grumpy theoretical physicist _are_. So either find something useful to do, or I'm dumping you in a crossover."

"With a theoretical physicist?"

"With the _vampire_."

"I think OSHA has laws against that."

"You're a fictive, OSHA is probably more worried about _my_ mental health at this point. Besides, I'm beginning to think you and Spike deserve each other." She shoed yet another PlotBunny off the computer desk. It promptly collided with another bun and there was a short violent battle of the fandoms. The Writer grabbed the pale blue Who!bun by the scruff and glared down at the neon pink Highlander!bun (who didn't look at all sorry about the whole affair).

House wondered if the couch was hallucinogenic. "Just what kind of Writer _are_ you?"

"Busy." She skritched the Who!bun who happily sprawled in her lap and made faces at the Highlander!bun. "Now why don't you wander off to SubReality like a good little fictive and let me work." There was a pause. "They serve alcohol."

"Ah."

"And if you hit it during MarySue hour, there'll be a whole herd of empathic healers falling all over themselves to take away your pain." She tossed him the keys to the fictive!Harley. "Just don't bring them home, k? I have enough of those hanging around the house as it is."

_:I am _not_ a MarySue.:_

"No, you're the telepathic companion animal, which makes me the MarySue. Now scat, and try not to get House into too much trouble." The Writer refocused on the fic-in-progress, absently skritching the PlotBunny.

"I'm taking the cat to a bar?"

"Nope, she's taking you. And if anyone asks, you've never met the bunny slippers."

House decided a) he really didn't want to know, and b) he could use a drink. So he sighed, levered himself off the couch and gave the cat a measuring look. "After you?"

_:Always.:_


End file.
